Chapter 42
Elora
Viliam crouched protectively in front of her, his body tense and ready to strike again. A soft whimper escaped Elora’s lips, this time one of relief. She had believed he was gone, that he had left her to face Thorn’s wrath alone.
Yet here he was, defying fate.
Thorn staggered, groaning as he rose with the grit and dust that clung to his jacket and slacks, though he made no move to brush it away.
His face contorted with rage, his expression a mask of seething fury. When his gaze fell upon the nightglider, it was as though the darkness itself thickened around him, his eyes narrowing with a hatred deep and unfathomable, a fierce longing for reckoning.
Elora scrambled to her feet, her breath still coming in sharp, ragged bursts as she backed away from the confrontation unfolding before her.
Thorn placed a pendant dangling from a thin chain around his neck and a cuff over the upper helix of his ear, each one glowing faintly with an ominous power.
She didn’t know what each one did, but the magic that radiated from them was unmistakable. Whatever advantage Viliam had, Thorn was determined to even the playing field.
“You had your chance to leave, beast,” he taunted. “Why would you stay? To protect this worthless girl?”
Viliam didn’t react. His golden eyes remained fixed on Thorn, his muscles taut, his wings slightly flared, ready to strike. A low, dangerous growl rumbled from his throat.
Thorn’s eyes glinted with dark amusement as he advanced toward Viliam. “Fine, then. If you want to stay by her side so badly, so be it,” he spat. “I’ll chain you both up. And you can watch every second of the merciless torture I put her through.”
Without warning, Viliam lunged.
He was a blur of motion, silent, deadly, his midnight wings slicing through the air.
He aimed straight for Thorn’s throat, claws extended and teeth bared.
Elora’s thoughts whirled, a flicker of hope rising unbidden. Maybe Viliam can end this before Thorn can react.
But Thorn moved faster than Elora had ever seen. His reflexes, amplified by the enchanted jewelry, allowed him to sidestep Viliam’s deadly strike with terrifying ease.
Viliam soared past him, landing with a thud in the sand, his claws carving deep furrows as he turned to face Thorn again.
Thorn didn’t give him a moment to recover.
He charged.
Electricity crackling between his fingers.
Viliam leaped back, avoiding the electrified touch, but just barely.
Grains of sand scattered in sharp bursts under Thorn’s feet as he advanced, his movements unnervingly quick and far more agile than Elora had ever thought possible.
It was like watching two predators circle each other, looking for an opening to strike.
Viliam lunged again, his claws slashing toward Thorn’s chest.
This time, they connected.
Fabric tore.
But not flesh.
He should have been bleeding profusely, but he wasn’t.
Elora’s stomach sank. A pendant of Ironhide.
Thorn grinned wickedly, his confidence growing with each failed attack. He was untouchable.
Viliam snarled, leaping back to avoid another electric strike, his wings spreading wide as he tried to gain distance.
But Thorn was relentless.
He danced around Viliam, striking out with shocking bursts of electricity, forcing Viliam to stay on the defensive.
Every time Viliam tried to get close, Thorn was faster.
Every time Viliam struck, Thorn’s iron-like skin absorbed the blow.
It was a deadly cycle, and Viliam was running out of options.
Thorn surged forward again, this time faster than before, his hand brushing Viliam’s flank.
Lightning surged through the nightglider’s body.
Viliam roared in agony, his muscles rippling as he fought to stay shifted. His massive wings trembled.
“Yes, that’s it!” Thorn taunted. “Change back. Make this even easier for me.”
But Viliam refused to yield.
With a growl, he launched himself at Thorn with renewed fury. He twisted midair, his claws aiming for Thorn’s unprotected face.
But Thorn ducked beneath the strike and rammed his electrified fist into Viliam’s side.
The shock sent Viliam crashing into the sand, his body convulsing from the charge.
Elora’s heart leapt into her throat as she watched the mighty nightglider writhe, his wings twitching, his form barely holding.
Thorn stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion, but the cruel smirk never left his face.
“You should have left when you had the chance,” he sneered, raising his hand for the final blow.
Elora’s mind screamed for her to do something, anything. She couldn’t let Thorn win.
Not like this.
Her body moved before her thoughts caught up, her legs propelling her forward.
With a surge of desperate courage, she leapt onto Thorn’s back, her arms locking around his neck in a chokehold.
Thorn’s hand shot up, grabbing her arm with bruising force. He twisted sharply, breaking her hold and hurling her over his shoulder.
Elora hit the ground hard, the air rushing from her lungs as she tumbled through the sand.
But her distraction was enough.
With a guttural snarl, Viliam’s wings beat the sand in a flurry, launching him up and over Thorn. He landed behind him, slashing at his legs before the headmaster reacted.
Thorn stumbled, but his iron-like skin protected him again, and the electricity crackled between his fingers as he turned.
With a swift movement, Viliam whipped his tail around, catching Thorn in the chest with enough force to send him skidding back across the sand.
But Thorn was already recovering.
His body snapped back into position with the unnatural speed granted by his enchantments. He darted forward, his electrified hand reaching for the nightglider’s side again.
This time, Viliam anticipated the move.
Instead of retreating, he met Thorn’s charge head-on. With a snarl, Viliam ducked low, avoiding Thorn’s outstretched hand, and slammed his massive shoulder into Thorn’s midsection, knocking the air out of him.
Thorn staggered, gasping.
Viliam didn’t give him time to recover. Using the momentum, he swept his wing across the sand, sending a cloud of dust into Thorn’s face, blinding him momentarily.
Thorn coughed and swiped at his eyes, trying to clear his vision, but Viliam was already moving.
In a blur of midnight fur and wings, Viliam pounced, his teeth glinting in the moonlight.
He didn’t go for a killing blow. Instead, he aimed for Thorn’s ear.
Thorn barely had time to react before razor-sharp fangs clamped down. There was a sickening ripping sound, followed by a strangled, furious cry.
Thorn staggered back, blood running down the side of his face.
Viliam had taken the top of his ear clean off.
Thorn let out a snarl of rage, his speed now reduced to normal, but he was still dangerous.
Thorn lunged again.
He aimed a punch at Viliam’s head, but the nightglider twisted, dodging the strike and using his wing to push Thorn off balance.
He stumbled, his footing faltering on the uneven sand.
Taking advantage of the moment, Viliam lashed out with his claws once more, this time targeting the Pendant of Ironhide.
His claws scraped against Thorn’s chest, and with a final, powerful swipe, he ripped the chain from Thorn’s neck.
The moment the pendant fell, Thorn’s body reverted to its normal state.
Vulnerable.
No longer protected by the enchanted iron. He staggered back, a look of shock crossing his face as he realized the tide had turned.
Viliam roared, his wings flaring wide, towering over Thorn.
Thorn’s hand crackled with electricity, but Viliam moved faster. His jaws snapped around Thorn’s wrist.
A sickening crunch.
The sound of sharp fangs sinking deep into flesh and bone.
Thorn’s scream tore through the night, raw and furious, his body convulsing as the nightglider twisted his hand, shredding muscle and tendon in one savage motion.
Thorn’s fingers spasmed, his grip loosening. With a final violent jerk of Viliam’s maw, something small and metallic slipped free.
The ring.
It tumbled from Thorn’s mangled hand, landing in the sand with a faint thud, its once-potent glow flickering weakly before vanishing altogether.
Viliam spat out the bloodied remnants, his chest heaving, golden eyes fixed on Thorn with a fierce intensity. His wings trembled slightly, each labored breath betraying the toll the fight had taken on him.
He didn’t have the strength to strike again, not yet. For now, he kept his stance firm, his body angled protectively in front of Elora as he recovered, watching Thorn’s every move.
Thorn lurched backward, his body a wreck of torn flesh and trembling limbs. Blood streamed from the ragged wound where the top of his ear had been, soaking into his collar, dark and glistening.
His once-pristine coat hung in tatters, clinging to him with sweat and gore. His mangled hand quivered against his chest, fingers twitching uselessly, a ruined, twisted thing of shredded muscle and splintered bone. The skin was torn away in places, exposing raw tendons.
His breath came in wet, rattling gasps. For the first time, Elora saw it, genuine fear behind his eyes.
“This isn’t over.” He spat a mouthful of blood into the sand and backed away toward the Institute. Staggering, broken, defeated.
Now.
Elora bolted.
Scooping up her satchel, her legs trembled beneath her but fueled by adrenaline. The dinghies were there, waiting, her only shot at escape.
She reached the first dinghy, and didn’t waste a second. Throwing herself into the boat, she grabbed the oars and pushed off, slipping into the dark water.
Her hands shook as she rowed, her muscles burning with each pull. She glanced back at the shore, her eyes searching for any sign of pursuit.
Viliam was still there, though she couldn’t see Thorn anymore. The nightglider’s golden eyes met hers one last time, a silent farewell passing between them. He had bought her the time she needed, and she knew he wouldn’t let Thorn follow her.